Various Artists - The Squid and The Whale [Soundtrack] (Ultra)

by Suzanne Baran
24 March 2006

The Squid and the Whale is somewhat akin to WES ANDERSON’s The Royal Tenenbaums; each features a Jewish family living in New York City (and in discord) and each is accompanied by music that brilliantly reflects the bittersweet realities of life. In particular, each film is a keen inspection of emotional isolation.

In The Squid and The Whale, the tone of the music parallels the film—Sixties and Seventies singer/songwriters commingle with a sense of wistfulness for what was, and what could be. It’s what childhood might sound like if put to music.

Included are rock icons like LOU REED, whose classic eleven-minute song “Street Hassle” trails a couple’s demise of heroin overdose. BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN, in an un-credited appearance, adds his voice to Reed’s poetry. Next up is LOUDON WAINWRIGHT III with his brilliantly crafted lyrics on “Lullaby.” Acoustic guitar master BERT JANSCH contributes three dreamy pop/folk tracks. They are my favorites from a lyrical standpoint.

The talented DEAN WAREHAM of GALAXIE 500 and LUNA fame collaborates with ex-Luna member (and current girlfriend) BRITTA PHILLIPS on songs composed specifically for the film. “Park Slope,” a reference to the location setting of the film, sets the listener adrift in an instrumental haze of serene and muted sounds. Wareham’s remake of PINK FLOYD’s “Hey You” is somehow even more somber than the original and, I believe, is an inside joke regarding one of the character’s attempt to claim authorship of this tune in the film. [Or is related to the exorbitant cost of licensing Pink Floyd material -ed.]

Another song named for a place (which is, incidentally, within driving distance from Park Slope) is ex-MAMAS AND THE PAPAS frontman JOHN PHILLIPS’s “Holland Tunnel.” Interspersed among heavy, emotionally pungent tunes, this song keeps the listener on her feet, not knowing what to expect next. Also refreshing is “Figure Eight,” an old School House Rock song by BLOSSOM DEARIE, fits like a missing puzzle piece into the rest of the soundtrack.

Just as the movie places the viewer in the nostalgic, yet gritty fog of a living room home video showing, the soundtrack puts the listener in that same living room, but in front of a record player. Picture sitting on a green shag rug accompanied by mustard-colored wallpaper partially blocked by stacks of yellowed, dog-eared paperbacks. Pensive and poignant, the rich flavor of soundtrack will entice continuous play, the good version of listening to a broken record.

Filed under soundtrack folk-rock